The New Guitarist In Town
by JimmyPageRocks
Summary: For those of you that liked the story, I apologize. But I have come back to the epic yea right hah story of a young hunter searching for the famed El Tigre. Why would he want to find El Tigre though? Read to learn the new story. Potential rating change.


**Could it be? A revisiting of a long dead story? I apologize for failing to update in, what? Something like a year? Well I can explain, I essentially lost all creative input for this story and lost interest in the show. Recently I started to get ideas while reading a story for El Tigre, which I do not own. Ideas for an ending, ideas for a story, ideas people might actually like and could be written with some legitimate skill because I have changed my writing style completely since then.**

**I pray you enjoy this recreation of my first El Tigre story.**

"Hello there." A voice can faintly be heard down the hall. You follow this voice to the third door on the left down a long hall. Light can be seen emanating from under this seemingly average door, flickering as from a fire.

"Yes, you there, come on in." You reach for the doorknob, hesitant. The hall seems to darken.

"I said come in!" The voice has changed; it seemed genial before, now you don't know what you are hearing. _If this person knows I'm standing here…hesitating…I shouldn't make 'em mad…_You think before your shaking hand grips the doorknob, the metal is cold to the touch. You turn the doorknob slowly and open the door. There is a short hallway you walk down before coming to a room with two large backed chairs sitting around a fireplace.

"Welcome, welcome." A man sits in the seat farthest away from you. You try to see what he looks like but for his proximity you cannot make out his features, as if you are seeing someone through fog or in the dark.

"Sit, please!" You cautiously step toward the chair closest to you and sit down slowly, the firelight casts odd shadows about the room. Thing, creatures of shadow, seem to appear throughout the room one instant and disappear the next.

"I bet you are wondering why you are here…" starts the man, his clouded face seems to move with his words. "And to answer your curiosity…I actually have no idea why you are here." You try to speak but find your mouth is disturbingly sealed tight.

"However, since you are here, I must apologize for starting a story this way. Especially one of this nature…But what can you do?" The man shrugs his shoulders and pauses. "…Thank you for being my reader though, I hope you enjoy the story ahead, but before we begin there are a few differences here…" You know you are dreaming so you try to pinch yourself to wake up, you don't feel a thing, you try to get out of your seat but to no avail, you are stuck.

"First of all this story exists in the future, approximately two years from the characters' last ages. Not much has changed for them but two years has given the villains a chance to become stronger and grow in number while heroes try to tip the balance before the city is lost. They have matured, just, and passed grades. He fights evil every day to protect those of the city, but commits acts of villainy himself for the fun." There is a long pause as the man looks at the fire.

"Well…enjoy." He claps his hands and everything goes dark…

A young man walks through the near lifeless desert; a strong wind is coming from the south east blowing sand at him. He wears a dark red poncho, wide-brimmed tan sombrero, black pants, black dress shoes, and goggles to protect his eyes. On his back he carries something precious, wrapped in cloth to protect it from the sand, but because of its amorphous shape the object can't be identified. I bet you wish I would tell you what it is.

He walks alone, along the road, at a slow pace against the wind. All of a sudden the wind begins to calm to a point at which there is no longer a sandstorm hitting him in the face, it has been reduced to nice breeze so he looks backwards, seeing the receding sand continue moving. He can now see, thank goodness! There wouldn't be much of a story if he couldn't see… Anyway he takes off his goggles but his face is still obstructed as he does so and while he drops the goggles onto the road before continuing on his way to the city which lies, what he guessed, two miles distant.

He quickened his pace only slightly and covered the distance in a mere half hour at which point he saw a sign just outside the city that said 'Welcome to Miracle City' amongst assorted graphitti that covered the sign. The young man smiled and muttered under his breath, "Hasn't changed a bit…" He could see the adorned volcano in the distance and hear assorted alarms as the meager police force collaborated with local heroes to fight crime, but he wasn't here for them, he was here for one "El Tigre." And he finally gets to the core of the story!

He lingered for a moment at the entrance to the city before stepping forward and into his old home but unfortunately before he could cover a hundred yards he was grabbed forcefully a pulled off into a dark and dank alley between two medium sized buildings, probably local businesses that would be informing the authorities of a mugging undoubtedly right now. _If only they knew…_thought the young man as he was thrown against the wall of one building by a thug wielding a knife whilst two of his buddies flanked him, ready for their daily pay off.

"So you gonna give us the money or are we gonna have ta take it?" asked the one wielding the knife, the blade pointed at the young man's throat. The young man released a breath in amusement, a grin spread across his face. He so cool!

"What makes you think I'd give you any money even if I had it? And what makes you so sure you could take it from me anyway?" the young man took off his hat revealing a clean tan face, messy but moderately short hair, and green eyes…those eyes…something was different about them… The thug with the knife scowled at the young man and pressed the knife against his throat. Oh junk dude!

"Okay, wise-ass, we'll just take your money by force!" The burly teen announced before stepping back and letting his buddies proceed to beat the young man up, which they started by the one on his left slugging the young man in the stomach. Ouch! That's gotta hurt! But I wouldn't know from experience… The young man grunted in pain and bent forward and the two thugs proceeded to push him to the ground and kick him in the sides, stomach, chest, legs, and head. Their presumed leader stood back and watched.

"Alright, let's grab the money and split!" This immediately put an end to their relentless beating and they all kneeled to rummage through what pockets he might have but they found nothing.

"What the fuck? He ain't got nothin!" Exclaimed one of the thugs, the first to speak who was not the leader.

"We'll just take whatever he's got in these here rags" stated the last of the thugs to speak. His colleagues, if you could call them that loved the idea so they pulled on the cloths until the stock of a guitar was revealed that read GIBSON.

"Very nice…we could get a couple hundred bucks for—" their leader stopped midsentence as he heard a weak chuckle escape their victim; this caused them all to look at him in surprise and anger.

"The fuck you laughing at?" demanded the second thug who then kicked him in the stomach causing him to grunt in pain again. BIG MISTAKE! Hah, what idiots. Wish I knew what was about to happen to 'em…It's pretty bad when the author doesn't know, don't you think? All of a sudden the young man did a windmill spin so fast that the thugs could barely see what happened; this young man could hear a song in his head, Waking the Demon by Bullet For My Valentine. Things proceeded to get very interesting… Those with weak resolutions may want to look away!

All three thugs fell onto the ground simultaneously while the young man stood up and did a back flip into the air…about twenty feet and the equivalent horizontally. At this point all three thugs had recovered from the shock and pain of being tripped at a speed they couldn't keep up with and were stumbling to their feet. Oh and for the sake of my sheer laziness, and as part of making this as informal a story as possible I feel I should give you this young man's name. Rodrigo, Rodrigo Taves. Back to the action! Rodrigo stood watching the thugs from the distance he had jumped away with an amused grin adorning his face.

"You should quit now and run home to your mommies before you get hurt." Rodrigo chuckled as he watched the thugs respond in suit with intense anger, and in their anger they failed to notice that the young man they had just 'beaten to a pulp' as one might say, didn't have a single bruise, abrasion, or cut on him. This was becoming a very one sided stand off as two of his three opponents were already bleeding from their heads having hit them on the fall to the ground.

"We're gonna kill your punk ass!" Yelled the leader as he grabbed his knife and ran at Rodrigo but if he had known any better, he would have known that his knife would have been more useful in a gunfight… Rodrigo pulled his cloth covered guitar off his back and ripped the cloth off in one swipe, revealing a '67 Gibson SG with a worn cherry finish that looked brand new. Very nice choice! Wish I had one like it… Rodrigo then snapped with his right hand in the air, a black pick appearing in between his index finger and thumb that he immediately used to play Ride The Lightning by Metallica but it was louder than it should have been…as if the guitar were hooked up to a large amp. Time seemingly slowed as Rodrigo pointed the stock of his guitar at the thug, who was now upon him, and it began to glow blue. From point blank range it was too late for the thug who was still trying to stab Rodrigo, but he had messed with the wrong person. One question though…Where were the police and heroes?

The bolt that exploded out of the stock of the guitar hit the thug square in the chest, it the force of the instantaneous hit knocked the air out of his lung, cracked a few ribs and sent him flying backwards into his buddies. _Approximate time of consciousness recovery…one hour, time of recovery…two weeks, never full recovery. That should force him to make some lifestyle changes…_Thought Rodrigo in one of his few calculating moments at which point he grinned.

The two thugs beneath their leader had hit their heads on a garbage bin and wooden palate, each hitting something different while their leader skidded to a halt several feet away. With all three having lost consciousness and sirens moving close from the distance Rodrigo took his leave, he jumped from side of the alley to the other and repeated until he jumped to the roof of the adjacent building. What a bad-ass! Once there he crossed the roof and sat down on the ledge and sighed.

"I'm sorry…" Rodrigo said to no one that could be seen…Who's he talking to? He bowed his head and strummed his guitar quietly until he saw the police come to a halt outside of the shop he was sitting on top of only to get out of their cars and go inside. They quickly ran outside and to the alley he had just left strewn with the thugs, he could hear them phoning for an ambulance and backup if it was available, which it was. It seems to me they forget things like this happen everyday and are usually of little consequence to others…Oh well.

Rodrigo stood and pulled off his poncho, revealing a black suit with a white under shirt and red tie with black stripes, out of his suit he produced a pair of tinted sunglasses and a newsboy hat which he placed on his face and his head, respectively. He moved the guitar on its strap, which was over his shoulder, so it was now against his back as with before then took his poncho and threw it at the police vehicles the moment the officers stepped out of the alley. They saw the falling poncho and looked up to see where it could have come from but no one was there, Rodrigo had disappeared and was now building hopping several buildings away.

Run, jump, run, jump, run; it became quite monotonous, but he had to keep going, he couldn't take the time to save the several people he saw being mugged on the way or stop any creature from destroying the city, that was a job for the heroes, not him. However Rodrigo quickly became bored with running and jumping so he came to a halt on one building and stared at the ground, suddenly he looked up and to his right. Across the street was a bank.

_How do you catch a hero?_ Rodrigo asked himself, _by waiting…_He finished his thought and walked to the ledge before sitting down and strumming his guitar quietly, none of its earlier volume existed. To anyone on the street it might seem an odd sight, a young man of maybe sixteen—there ya go, his age, ya vultures…playing a guitar on the edge of a building but in Miracle City you learn to ignore anything that isn't trying to kill you.

Rodrigo waited patiently, it would only be a matter of time…

Manny and Frida were walking along down the street, heading toward the arcade to play their favorite games, Monster Smash 3 and Zombie Killinator 2. They had both grown up and were freshmen in high school, other than height little seems to have changed about the two, in fact the both still dressed the same way. One good thing is they have matured a bit in the last two years…

"Dude I'm totally gonna own your monster! Like boom, pow, smash!" Frida practically yelled while throwing a few punches and kicks, earning her a few looks from people on the street.

"What?" she asked innocently. Strike what I said about maturity…I doubt they could redeem themselves at this point.

"Nuh uh! I'm **totally** gonna smash your monster to bits!" Manny challenged her assertion that she could win.

"So you think, Manny" Frida laughed, punching Manny on the arm playfully before they both laughed. It was at that moment that a building's wall was blown open a ways away; they could see it was a bank but they couldn't see who was robbing it.

"Go get 'em, Manny!" Frida encourage her friend who nodded and spun his El Tigre belt, which engulfed his whole body in a green flame as he changed into the feline hero with a roar. He shot out a claw, grabbed onto something and jumped, swinging to cover the distance as quick as possible while Frida started running from far behind but she was quickly winded and huffing… Manny looked toward the building and saw El Oso standing in a hole in the bank's wall, which he had somehow made twice his size, holding a giant sack of money over his head.

"Again El Oso?" Manny asked, exasperated. "Don't you have something better to do than rob banks or jewelry stores? I mean this is like the twelfth time this week!" It was Wednesday…

"Hey, mang, I don't gots any monies, mang." The villain explained as he jumped out of the hole he had made.

"You mean other than the dozen sacks of money you stole last week and the priceless gems the week before that are still sitting in your cave?" chimed an exhausted Frida who had finally managed to run up next to her best friend.

"Uhh…" El Oso started, "…You'll never catch me alive, mang!" With that the villain bolted down the street, carrying the sack of money over his head. He didn't get far however because before he could run thirty or so feet Manny shot out one of his claws on chains, which wrapped itself around El Oso's feet and made him trip and face plant onto the pavement while the money went flying into the hands of an officer, who yelled his thanks to El Tigre before returning the sack of money to the bank. Wait…so police can be there to catch the money but not help Rodrigo?

"Oooo, nice one dude! Major face plant!" Frida congratulated her friend with a pat on the back. Meanwhile, El Oso was being walked into the back of a police van with his hands cuffed behind his back. "Could we hurry this up, mang? I need to have times to break out by dinners, mang." El Oso complained to the officers who locked the van and drove him to the prison.

"Thanks, Frida." Manny told his friend, suddenly the two could hear clapping coming from behind so they turned to see who it was, low and behold it was Rodrigo but all they saw was a kid in a black suit with a guitar standing there clapping. "Nice job El Tigre, love the way you managed to beat that idiot." He chuckled slightly.

"Who are you? And how do you know who I am?" Manny asked suspiciously. Something felt wrong, and it wasn't those five bean burritos he ate for lunch… This guy looked sketchy, cause who wears a black suit in Mexico in August? He must not be human!

Rodrigo grinned and said, "You probably won't know me by name, but I'm Rodrigo Taves and I used to live here but I've been away doing some things." Rodrigo noticed El Tigre's friend, a blue haired girl who just so happened to be staring at him with a look in her eyes he had gotten used to so he just smiled.

"What have you been doing?" Frida beat Manny to asking, this caused him to look at her and see she was staring at the stranger.

"This and that, playing a few gigs, taking down superheroes and villains…" Rodrigo proclaimed nonchalantly, but this confused Manny. _Taking down? What's that supposed to mean? He couldn't mean…killing could he?_ Manny thought to himself, good thing he was too tough to be taken down, or so he thought. Even if he could take down El Tigre he hadn't said anything about fighting OR killing him…

Rodrigo grinned. "You're next Manny Rivera."

**And that's it for chapter one! Longer than I was expecting but I think it was pretty good for having written at two in the morning…**

**Anyway if you like, comment, if you don't then don't bother reading anymore, it's your loss.**

**Oh and as a side comment I might be thinking about adding other OC's and whatnot so if you have a character idea, send me a message. I might use 'em.**


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